If It's Hostile, You Kill It
by Ragnarok Ascendant
Summary: In one reality, she was Taylor Hebert, Skitter, a parahuman in Brockton Bay. In this, she is Taylor Hebert, Anna (to her friends), one of the Gifted in the ruins of the Bay and the dark tunnels of the Metro beneath. Worm/Metro 2033 Fusion/AU. Please review at your pleasure.
1. Chapter 1: Polis

_In one chain of realities, this world would be known as Earth Bet._

 _It would be the birthplace of heroes and villains, conspiracies and murderers, endings and beginnings._

 _It would be a home for something beyond comprehension._

 _In another chain, another infinity, things are different in the city where it all began._

 _A quirk in geological formation, a shift in public infrastructure spending, and a subway is built._

 _International tensions rise, and the subway is built deeper, deep enough to survive the worst. Military spending rises, and with it the benefits. Military bases sprout like mushrooms across the country, and other, more secret places are built in the dark._

 _A golden man appears in the skies over the Atlantic. He raises his hands, and follows the plans laid out by his counterpart, once they had known of this paranoid and untrusting world._

 _In order for the experiment to continue, they must be forced to the edge of survival, trained to be unquestioning as they searched for the means to live another day._

 _Across two countries radar screens scream and alarms blare._

 _Missiles fly._

 _The world spins on, mortally wounded, growing colder. Changing, as radiation and countless bioweapons do their work on those creatures who did not or could not flee._

 _Some in subway systems survive._

 _Brockton Bay is one such city._

 _It is the year 2033._

 _And the Metro is all there is._

My name is Taylor Anne Hebert, Anna to my friends (which, admittedly, I have few of. Thanks, Emma). And my father is being a stubborn bastard.

"You're telling me I can't go? Those bastards killed Dauntless! And you're taking Danila with you, and he's nowhere _near_ as good as I am on the surface."

"We don't know what we will find in the Headquarters, Taylor," Dad growls, face flushed under his beard. "The Librarians alone-"

"Are as vulnerable to my Gift as everything else on the surface. You _need_ me there. You're alright sending Artyom alone across the surface, but think that in a group it's not safe? I'm coming."

Dad's teeth grind for a moment, and he looks away. "I don't want to lose you," he admits. If we hadn't been in the privacy of his office, I know he never would have said that, not where the Rangers could hear.

The Colonel and leader of the Order couldn't be seen being human, after all. That could've implied he could be weakened...and with threats on all sides- the Empire and their obsession with purity, the Republican Guard and their seemingly endless numbers, and the countless mutants and monsters that broke past defenses, prowled empty tunnels...to say nothing of bandit groups like the Roma- weakness could lead to doubt, and doubt was a better weapon than any AR. At least the Archer's Bridge stations and their merchant groups were peaceful enough, and stations like Polis were more than willing to pay and supply Dad and the Spartans, whether in food, medicine, or weaponry.

"You won't," I say. "You know I'm tougher than that."

He sighs. "Fine. Go see Kurt, draw up whatever weapons and ammunition you need, and get ready to come along.

I don't do a fist pump. But the chance to go out on the surface and get the hell _away_ from Polis makes me want to. Sure, Emma, Sophia, and Madison weren't in a position to harm me, not since my Gift had manifested and half the station had been in an uproar once they'd found out who had been responsible...but ever since the crowded places and the half-seen flashes of insight my Gift granted were almost overwhelming. The surface was quiet, at least, the only minds there those of the Stalkers and the primitive thoughts of the mutants, and those scattered far from each other.

And so, I jog to the armory just slowly enough to not be a run.

Kurt is cheerful as always, another Army tech that had kept up with Dad instead of joining the 'Republic' that held most of the southern stations. And his gear is first-class. A Barrett and an MP5 with silencer and laser sight join the revolver and knife I carry at all times. Gas mask, filters, medkits, check. Last is the Ranger armor. It's a bit loose- even with the amount of exercise I get, I'm still stick-thin- but some work with the straps fixes that acceptably. I don't use a helmet- damn things end up interfering with my Gift for some reason- and so a black beanie suffices.

By the time I'm ready, Danila and Dad have arrived at the armory and begun doing the same thing, gearing up. Dad draws up a Hellbreath, the makeshift but still-deadly railgun built by Armory Station tinkers like Colin the Blacksmith and simple enough to need no maintenance. Danila for his part picks out a modified Bastard. Why he's bothering with the cheap SMG I don't know, but he's at least smart enough to pick out one with a stock, heat sink, and laser sight, at least.

Maybe I won't have to save him from Watchmen. Again.

We head for one of the airlocks, nodding to the people on guard there. Polis might not want to send its soldiers to help the Dock stations repel the New Men, but the Spartans aren't Polis, and so the two loyal men open the gate without asking questions.

We walk out into the snow-covered ruins of the Bay.


	2. Chapter 2: Entrances

In the end, it's actually fairly easy to follow Artyom's tracks. Mostly because of the gunfire, and the vast numbers of dead Watchmen- and even a Demon!- that might as well be pointing an arrow towards the old PRT HQ.

I climb atop the snowy remnants of a city bus, steadying my rifle on my knee as I drop into a crouch. My Gift can sense more Watchmen, a full pack running past and a few stragglers scenting something in the air and peeling off...but no Artyom. Strange.

Wait. Movement. A man in Ranger armor like mine, weapons on his back and a four-barreled shotgun in his hands, moving towards the HQ. But he's blank to my Gift. How is that-

"Taylor?" Dad asked, voice muffled by his gas mask.

I nod. "He's up ahead. Hurry, we've got Watchmen close by and I think a few are hungry enough to-"

I fire, more muscle memory than anything, and a Watchman falls mid-leap as Artyom pivots to face it. The man looks over his shoulder, then runs for cover.

"He's headed towards us," I report as I fire again, tearing another of the canine beasts in half. "Go. I'll provide covering fire."

Howls from the pack echo off abandoned buildings, and Dad and Danila move, weapons up as they make their way through the streets. I pick off two more Watchmen, while Artyom claims one for himself with a blast from his shotgun. Not exactly a pretty weapon but all four barrels firing at once does even more damage than my Barrett.

The sound of Dad's Hellbreath and Danila's Bastard rip through the air as they push towards the HQ and the retreating Artyom, cutting down the Watchmen with ease. The creatures snarl and howl, but as their numbers dwindle they decide that this particular prey is too much for them. I fire the last shot in my clip to bring down a straggler, reload, then sling the heavy weapon over my back, drawing my submachinegun as I clamber down from the bus and jog to join the others.

My Gift, the part of it that hears minds at least, is strongest at relatively short distances. This close, even without looking I can get the impressions of worry and hope from Dad, and disciplined fear from Danila, but Artyom...Artyom remains entirely blank. Sure, some other Gifted, the ones that changed into incorporeal forms like Purity had been able to, might've been a bit difficult to read, but it had never been outright _impossible._

 _What the hell are you?_

It's only Dad's shocked expression that makes me realize I've spoken out loud.

Great job, Taylor. Guy travels all the way from the Docks and the Graveyard to find Polis, surviving the worst the Metro and the Bay could throw at him, and you manage to insult him within five seconds of meeting him.

"Gifted, like you," Artyom says. His voice is muffled by his own gas mask, but even so, he sounds young. Younger than me, and I only turned eighteen a month ago. "Most of the strangeness in the Metro, the things the New Men can do, none of it affects me. And I can see other Gifted."

"Yes, that's very nice, now can we _please_ go inside before a Demon flock decides we're lunch as well?" Danila asks, reloading his Bastard.

"Yes, let's," Dad says, leading the way towards the crumbling HQ.

The doors, heavy things that were likely meant to stand against an assault by enemy Gifted- villains, back before the war- need Dad and Danila working together. Artyom and I watch their backs. The boy's switched to an AR, one of the fancy bullpup designs that had just been issued before the war had kicked off. Probably picked it up from a Polis merchant before the Council decided to jam their collective heads up their asses about the New Men and the threat they posed from their home in the Graveyard.

Fuckers. Hunter- his given name might've been Forrest, but everyone called him Hunter ever since he killed a Nosalis Rhino with some Empire Gifted's spear- was dead at the New Men's hands, and they wanted that to go unanswered.

The doors finally are forced open at the same time I feel a flock enter the range of my Gift. Too far to control just yet.

"Demons are coming," I say conversationally as we move into the foyer, weapons up. Dad nods, and begins to force the door closed.

"Artyom, Taylor, start looking while we get this shut."

I nod, and raise my weapon as Artyom does the same.

The interior of the HQ is even worse off than the exterior, with most of the plaster tiles of the roof missing and exposed wiring everywhere. The receptionist's desk is still intact, and a body- probably a Stalker, judging from the jury-rigged gear- is slumped in front of it. The man's face and left arm are gone.

Artyom crouches down and begins stripping the dead man of ammunition and filters, and I sigh internally. Some people...still, better than leaving it.

The Demons are closer, now, but I look deeper for a moment and confirm that they haven't spotted us yet. They're more interested in the moving pack of Watchmen than in a place like the HQ. Can't say I blame them.

The door clangs shut, and I wince at the sound as the minds of the Demon flock are drawn to the noise. I look at Artyom, and motion for him to cover me as I sit, my back to the desk.

I draw on the other part of my Gift, the one that I've kept hidden from all except the Rangers.

The ability to control the minds of the mutants.

It's easy, somewhat. The Alpha is strongest of them all, all muscles and scars and wide, beating wings. I direct his senses back towards the Watchmen, and he shrieks and dives. The rest of his flock follows, talons taking individuals from the pack and pulling them into the sky.

There. Safe. Ish.

"You alright?" Artyom asks, intruding on my field of vision. I nod, getting to my feet.

"I'll be fine. Demons are leaving."

"Good," Dad says as he finishes blocking off the doors. "Now. The information we need is in the archives. Heading down seems our best bet."

The plan's simple. It's been common knowledge that the military had installed a few ballistic missile bases near the Bay, for anti-parahuman duties. Getting to those sites, with the surface the way it is, is impossible, but with the amount of automation, all we'd actually need to do would be to find the control bunker, and that _had_ to be in city limits, just due to how the bunker locations were set up. Nobody knew where _that_ bunker was, but thanks to the PRT and their control over all things parahuman...well, the archives were a better bet than the local library, at least. They'd know where the control bunker was located, and once that was found…

Hunter would be avenged, and the New Men and all their horrific enslaved Gifted would be destroyed.


	3. Chapter 3: Library

"Well, elevator's destroyed. Figures. Danila, the stairs?" Dad asks.

"Blocked by rubble, at least here," Danila says from further down the hall.

Of course. Because the easy way straight down to the archives was certain to be blocked. At least we hadn't seen any Librarians yet. My Gift helped, letting us know when the creatures were close and helping us take detours to avoid them.

In fact, beyond the occasional body of some Stalker with more daring than sense, we haven't found anything. What they thought to get out of the HQ, I'm not sure. Most of the tinkertech and resources ended up in the hands of the Republican Guard that had grown out of the PRT, and what's left- copper wiring, shell casings, the remnants of circuitry and the rare few intact pieces of machinery- aren't worth going anywhere near the Librarians.

Maybe they were looking for the bunker's location, just like us. There's plenty of rumors about it, and Stalkers never were the most skeptical sort. They can't afford to be, since with ghosts and other strange things infesting the Metro and the surface- and I don't even want to know what the hell is going on with the Rig- any sort of myth or legend could turn out to be true. Hell, I've heard that Venice is ruled by a dragon who sleeps atop the pile of bullets and useless gold his men take as 'protection money' from passers-by. Probably a particularly powerful Gifted, but who the hell knows?

"Alright, alright," Dad mutters to himself, consulting the floor plans he'd brought. "Here. There's another staircase, doesn't go straight to the archives but it does go into the first basement level. We can try that."

"Could be worse. The Librarians could decide that we're tasty," Danila jokes.

I feel a spark of interest from the closest of the apelike creatures at the same time a rumbling roar echoes through the air.

"Really, Danila? Really?" I mutter.

"Okay, Artyom, when you see one of them, look them in the eyes. You turn your back, or shoot them, we're as good as dead, but stare them down and they might leave you be," Dad explains quickly as we start moving. Not running. Slow, careful, eyes peeled. My hand leaves my gun's grip, pointing like a compass needle as I feel the Librarians move out, surrounding us.

"Although, it's not much help if they've decided you're dinner already, like this," Danila adds with a chuckle.

Corridor after corridor. Room after room checked, and yet the damn things don't close in. Why? What's their-

"There! The stairwell!" Dad shouts, cutting off my train of thought. How the hell...okay, this wasn't that big a building, but still.

Focus, Taylor. The Librarians are still hanging around, both sides of the hall. Waiting. So many, their echoes crowding each other out when they're this close together, close enough to human to make my ears ring at the noiseless cacophony-

 _Focus dammit._

I snarl, and point my Barrett down the hall, waiting for the first Librarian to appear.

"Danila, the door," Dad says, as we halt at the end of the hallway. "Artyom, Taylor, cover us."

Wait. The end of the hallway. The Librarians on all sides.

Oh no.

"It's jammed!" Danila cries, before a massive arm, thick with muscle and bone, bursts through the barely-opened stairwell door, grabbing him by the head. The walls on both sides crumble as the Librarians force their way through, arms punching through plaster and cheap concrete with ease. Dad's Hellbreath goes off and Danila cries in pain, but his echoes are still strong while the one of the Librarian- the Librarian I'd failed to notice, so occupied was I with the ones on all sides- falls downward. A grenade sounds like a thunderclap behind us, a farewell gift for anyone seeking to follow.

My hands are moving of my own accord, firing into the mass of flesh, and my ears are ringing as Artyom does the same, burning money as he empties military ammunition into the Librarians rushing to meet us.

Danila and Dad add their own fire, bullets and ball bearings and grenades and molotovs, burning flame and hot lead. And it's not enough. They keep coming, over their own dead, armored hides and thick bone turning aside lead shot and keeping them from bleeding out fast enough to kill them, no matter the holes that tear through them. The leap over the flames, using support beams as monkey bars. The grenades stop sections but there's always more.

We're going to die here.

I'm sorry, Hunter.

A whistle cuts through the air, and everything seems to stop. The Librarians, Dad, Danila, Artyom, everything. I lower my rifle and stand- when had I crouched?- as a figure in heavy furs pushes past the Librarians.

The Librarians move to let her through.

"Один з обдарованих," Artyom mutters. Russian? Where did he…?

"Why are you here?" the figure asks, and I focus. Heavily built, could have been mistaken for a man behind that mask- a mask made from a Librarian's skull, and I'd bet those furs are of similar origin- if not for her voice. It's raspy, but it's too high to be a man's. "You're coming close to home."

"We're here for some maps. Nothing more," Dad says.

"You want to go below?"

She's not wearing a gas mask. What is she, that she can survive up here without one? I reach out…

The Librarians snarl, and the woman's head whips towards me. "Stop."

I stop, standing, backing away, but keeping my eyes on hers. After a moment, she nods. "Hmph. Spine."

She looks back at Dad. "What you want maps for?"

"The New Men. They're coming for the stations, and we need to hit them first."

"Hmph. New Men. Weak, hiding behind their minds." She points at Artyom, then at me. "You two. Stay. Silver man, you and the boy go down. Harm our nests, we will kill you, but otherwise do what you need to, understand?"

"Yes, Ms…"

"Alpha."

She's Gifted. Has to be, to be up here. That's the only explanation that makes sense. Something to give her the powers to survive, to command the Librarians. Or perhaps she won it by strength.

Dad and I exchange looks. Then he nods to Alpha. "The stairwell…?"

"Safe. Go."

He and Danila depart.

Leaving me and Artyom alone with the Gifted and a dozen Librarians.

Wonderful.


	4. Chapter 4: Alpha

"So, um...why don't you have a gas mask?" I ask.

It's been ten minutes. If it hadn't been for the fact that I could still feel Dad and Danila's echoes moving around, I would've thought Alpha here had sent them to their deaths. As it is, they're taking their time.

Alpha just shrugs. "Don't need one."

Yeah, my diplomatic efforts are working out great. Artyom isn't helping, since he pulled out some ratty old journal and has been writing in it obsessively ever since the Librarians have backed off.

"Yeah, I get that, but why? Are you part Librarian or something?"

"Yes."

Oh. Okay, then.

That makes a scary amount of sense, actually.

"So you lead them? I thought you'd be angrier about the...well, the dead ones."

Alpha shrugs. "Still meat, isn't it? Besides, that's what they get for going after three Rangers. And whatever you are," she says, nodding to Artyom. Artyom just grunts.

Most of the Librarians have dispersed throughout the HQ. The only one left is a particularly huge one, that has sat itself down beside Alpha and done...nothing, since then.

"Is it just you out here?"

"Not always. Some come by."

"Like who?"

"Other Gifted. Sometimes Khan."

"You know Khan?" Artyom asks, suddenly interested.

Figures. The moment anyone mentions that weird old guy, suddenly everyone gets interested. I can't tell if the man is Gifted or just favored by the supernatural- while my Gift could sense him the few times we met, trying to look deeper was like trying to grasp smoke.

"Mrh. He's weird. But the others are okay with him."

"Heh. Maybe we should've just asked him to get the maps for us," I say. Then I pause.

"Dad and Danila are coming back up," I say. Alpha just huffs.

The stairwell door creaks open, and Dad rushes out, Danila covering him. Alpha just gives them a look. "They aren't going to eat you."

"They might not but the damn Lurkers might," Danila says.

Alpha cocks her head, and the Librarian snorts, getting to its feet. "Lurkers?" she asks.

"None here right now, but there's definitely the holes."

"Hmm. Good meat on those. Brutus. Go."

The black Librarian huffs, and shoves past Dad and Danila to head down the stairs. Alpha rises herself, staring down Dad, and I wonder for a moment if she's about to do something crazy. But she just nods. "You're the one in charge of the Rangers."

"I am."

"Hmm. Still strong, even grey-haired. Good. Your men. They come here again, they bring a fresh kill with them, and they'll have safe passage. Khan has told me a lot about your kind. Don't fuck up what good he's told me about you."

"I won't."

"Then go."

We go.


End file.
